tell me,
how do you do?
I root for the chance
that someday,
I could see you.

are you hoping that
we could talk again too?
because me?
it's always my wish
as time sweeps through.

I thought this time,
I’m finally choosing myself
That I’m going to be fine
And all the promises will be kept.

But why do these feelings
Can’t be freed?
When I adamantly asked,
To start your year without me?

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again